Fight for Narnia
by Huntress Of The Sea
Summary: We all think that Caspian started the fight against the Telmarines. But what if it was someone else? What if, only years before, someone else had risen up and started the fight? Find out the untold story of Narnia's quest to talk back what was theirs.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, you guys are probably thinking **_**she's starting ANOTHER one? **_**And yeah, I know, stupid, stupid, stupid! But I've had this idea fermenting in my head since May. So I just had to start it! Now, this is going to be much different than my usual ones. More painful and sad, less actiony for the most part. Also, there is going to be lots of songs. Don't worry! I'm not going to do it in the format everyone does it in. No, the songs are going to be written in my own way. So please, don't let that turn you off. Now, here you go. The first chapter of the untold Narnian story. **

Pain, Loss, and New Hope

The Queen's screams rang through the halls of King Caspian the IX's castle. The King's chamber was busy as nursemaids went to and fro, tending to the Queen as she screamed. The Queen herself was collapsed on her and her husband's bed. Her dark hair was plastered to her face and her body was slick with sweat. The Queen screamed louder as her nursemaids told her to push, and her body protested even more to being in labour.

The Queen screamed and screamed and screamed – even crying at moments. The nursemaid's muttering grew more and more insistent. They began to worry, the baby was premature and the young Queen was having a hard time pushing the baby out of her. If this kept up, they had no doubt that both she and the baby would die.

Then, almost like a miracle, a tiny wet bundle slithered from the Queen's body and began to wail. The nursemaid's all froze in surprise, then rushed to the Queen's beside. One maid quickly cut the umbilical cord while the youngest woman there scooped up the child and wrapped it in a towel. The tiny baby wailed at the top of its lungs, miniature fists swinging about.

One of maids dried the baby and handed it back to the exhausted Queen beaming. Once in its mother's arm, the newborn baby quieted instantly, latching on to its mother's breast and suckling. The Queens gave a tired smile and stroked the baby's head fondly.

As the new child drank, one of the maids left the room and told the news to a waiting man-at-arms. The man smiled at the maid and left to find the King.

The King was found in a small room, looking at out a small window nervously. King Caspian the IX was worried for his dear beloved wife. The man-at-arms walked into the room and knelt behind the King, his face lit up in a huge smile. The King barely glanced at the man, scared he brought ill-tidings.

"Your majesty," the man said. "I bring you great news! The Queen has given birth to a son!" The King spun around and stared at the man. For a minute he was frozen in surprise, but then his face broke into the largest grin seen since Narnia had been taken by the Telmarines.

"We have been blessed!" the King said. "Go, alert the kingdom that tonight – we celebrate the birth of the next heir! I – I must go and see my son." The man nodded once and the King strode around him and took off for his bed chamber. King Caspian was at the top of the world, his child had been born at it was a son! The Castle was abuzz with the news as he went to see his wife and child. Little did he know, it would be his next to last night. For not everyone was happy with the birth of the next heir.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, across the fair land of Narnia, in a village as close to the Lantern Waste as men dared in those days, a problem had broken out. Three town soldiers were standing just on the outskirts of the town, their arms folded and an amused expression on all of their faces. They were standing around a small shaking figure. The small person was dressed in a long coat of mail, with toughened leather on its forearms and calves. A small, rusted helmet covered the head entirely, masking the look of the person. The person them self was no taller than a man waist, with child-like limbs, and knees knocking against each other.<p>

The full moon above was the only source of light, and only made it easier for the soldiers to jest at the person. They laughed obnoxiously gestureing insultingly to the person. Acting like school ground bullies instead of soldiers. The small person – a boy the soldiers presumed – shook and trembled more.

"Does little soldier-boy want to play with the real warriors?" one laughed.

"He'd best be careful!" the second one joined in. "Playing with fire will only get him burned."

"Looks like little soldier-boy isn't so keen on hanging out with the big boys, is he?" the third said, seeing the small figure hunch over and shake in fright even more. "More like a stuffed dummy used for practice, eh boys?" The small person took a tiny step back, but managed to hold their ground against the onslaught of insults.

"Before we get in some late night practice, how about we see who's behind the mask," the first barked, the other soldiers laughing along with him. The man on the left reached out grasped the helmet in one hand. In desperation, the tiny person struggled with the man to keep the helmet on. But in the end, the trained bully soldier won, and the person in the armour was revealed.

The helmet was pulled away, and the soldiers stared in surprise at the person. Long, perfectly curled, chestnut brown hair fell from where it had been tucked away. The person's tanned skin glowed in the silver moonlight, and their long-lashed eyes blinked furiously as the light changed. They had deep, bottomless, forest green eyes flecked with hazelnut nut brown. Their mouth was a shell pink, and pressed into a tight line. But what was most shocking of all, was the fact is was a child of four, and it – was a _girl. _

The three soldiers stood frozen in shock. The helmet clanked to the ground, but no one payed any attention to it. The girl blinked her eyes once again and stared into the faces of the soldiers. If you look hard enough into them, you might have been able to glimpse the fear and terror she felt. But other than that, the girl carried herself high and proud.

"That's the Admiral's girl," the one who had pulled the helmet off said stupidly. The man on the right – the 'captain' of the little bully squad – reach over and whacked the man upside the head. He rubbed his head as the 'captain' glared at the girl, a sly smile across his face.

"Of course it is you dunce," he said. "But it doesn't matter whose daughter she is. She's still a runaway; she's wearing stolen mail – which only men can wear. Now, before we turn her into her father – I say we have our fun with her." The other soldiers nodded vigorously and the men burst into cruel laughter. The young girl's eyes widen in fright, and she shuddered. A man reached out for her, when light and the faint sound of explosions distracted them.

Whirling around, large bonfires, and the pounding of many drums was coming from the tiny silhouette of the King's Castle. They all watch the scene for a minute, before it finally sunk in. "A prince." the soldiers murmured. "A prince! A prince has been born!" The soldiers cheered and laughed at the good news now being announced across the entire country. As they were distracted by the stroke of fortune, the never saw, or heard, the small girl run away into the woods then into their own little town.

_Four Years Later_

The curtain rustle and stirred up a cool breeze as a young eight year old girl walked into the waiting room of her family's personal infirmary. Although still quite young, the girl had an air of authority and maturity as she walked in. The girl paused and looked around the large waiting room; scanning through the different jars of herbs and various potted plants.

The girl had a large bag slung over her shoulder, she rubbed the strap comfortingly; despite the heavy weight of the contents. The girl looked for a few minutes, before spotting the old nurse attending to a large plant in a corner. She walked over and curtsied slightly in the Telmarine fashion.

"Excuse me miss," she said politely, her voice was high and sweet, much richer than the average girl her age. The old nurse turned around and gave a sad smile to the girl. Her eyes swept up and down the young girl disapprovingly. She didn't like how the girl allowed her curly chestnut brown hair to fall over her shoulders freely, or how the girl preferred to walk barefooted. "May I please see my sister?" she asked, her shining forest green and brown flecked eyes holding the nurse's pleadingly.

The nurse held her gaze for a moment, before melting. The eight year old girl deeply loved her younger sister, and it was plainly written in her face. "She may be sleeping, but you can go in and see her." The girl's face broke into a huge grin. She quickly bobbled in another half curtsy.

"Oh thank you miss!" she exclaimed. She turned quickly away, scowling at the woman once her face was turned away. Acting polite, that's all it ever was, an act for her. She walked swiftly to the small, fragile, wooden door and pushed through. The door swung shut as she stopped just past the threshold, tears pooling into the corners of her eyes.

The small, white room smelled of vomit and sweat. There was a small cot placed in the centre against the far wall. Lying on it, under a think wool blanket, was a deathly ill five year old girl. Her straight ash-blonde hair was spread out on her pillow. Her face, neck, and shoulders were damp with sweat, her white dress soaked clean through. Her sky blue eyes were clouded and fever-bright. Her eyes were open sleepily, but at the sight of the eight year old, they opened fully and a pained smile spread across her face.

"Kalryn," she whispered (pronounced Kail-rin). The older girl, Kalryn, gave a tiny ghost smile and walked over to kneel by the bedside. She reached out and stroked her sister's face fondly.

"Oh Sara," Kalryn said quietly. "How do you feel? You – you look . . . great." Sara shook her head the tiniest bit.

"I . . . I don't feel well," she murmured. "It's all spinning. I want it to end . . ." Kalryn frowned slightly and shook her head stubbornly.

"Don't talk like that!" she said. "I can't lose you. Now don't talk, it drains you. But if you want, there's a song I wrote especially for you. Want to hear it?" Sara nodded earnestly, a wan smile growing on her face.

"Pl . . . please," she breathed. Kalryn smiled sadly at her sister, her heart swelling with love. She pulled her bag off her shoulder and placed it on her lap. Undoing the buckles, she pulled the bag open and pulled out the contents. It was a large, beautifully carved lyre. The wood dark and gleaming, ordinately carved with twirling vines and leaves. The strings were dark and oiled, wound tightly against the wood to perfection. It was the work of a skilled craftsman, made for a master. Kalryn held it easily, plucking at the strings to tune it. Once satisfied, she cleared her throat and held her hand ready.

"I call this song Perfect," she said. Taking a deep breath, she strummed a few chords and notes. Her finger dancing across the strings at an unbelievable speed. After a minute of a fast, beautiful song, she opened her mouth and sang.

"_Made a wrong turn, once or twice. Dug my way out, blood and fire. Bad decisions, that's all right. Welcome to-o my sil-ly life. Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood, miss, no way it's all good. It didn't slo-ow me do-own. Mistaken, always second guessin', underestimated – look I'm still a-round." _Kalryn took a deep breath before singing louder, her voice strong and clear.

"_Pretty, pretty please! Don't you ever, ever feel; like you're less then, less than perfect! Pretty, pretty please! If you ever, ever feel like you're nothing – you are perfect to me-ee."_ Sara gave a forced, pained, but still genuine smile at Kalryn. Kalryn smiled back fleetingly before continuing. Her fingers still strumming and plucking at the strings expertly.

"_You're so mean, when you talk. 'Bout yoursel-f, you were wrong. Change the voices, in your head, make them li-i-ike you instead. So complicated, look how big you make it; filled with so much hatred, such a tired game. It's enough; I've done all I can think of. Chased down all my demons – I'll see you do the sa-ame." _Tears formed on the corners of both Sara's and Kalryn's eyes. Both of them knew this was why Sara had such a hard time healing; she was just too young to fight back. Kalryn took another breath, fighting back the tears.

"_Pretty, pretty please! Don't you ever, ever feel; like you're less then, less than perfect! Pretty, pretty please! If you ever, ever feel like you're nothing – you are perfect to me-ee!" _

Kalryn stopped singing for a minute. Her fingers plucking the lyre's strings in a beautiful rhythm and tune. Both girls' body's swayed to the music, the sound filling their bodies with strength. Kalryn took a huge breath before launching into her last verse. _"Ooh, pretty, pretty please! Don't you ever, ever feel; like you're less then, less than perfect! Pretty, pretty please! If you ever, ever feel like you're nothing – you are perfect to me. You're perfect; you're prefect to me-ee. Pretty, pretty please! If you ever, ever feel like you're less then, less than perfect; pretty, pretty please! If you ever, ever feel like you're nothing – you are perfect to me-ee-ee! You're perfect; you're perfect, perfect, perfect to me-ee-ee-ee!" _Kalryn's voice faded away and she strummed her last few notes and chords before dropping her hand from her lyre. Her face was flushed, but she had a small, happy, proud smile on as she finished her song.

Sara was smiling as Kalryn slipped her lyre back into her bag. Doing up the buckles she pulled it back on her shoulder and stroked her little sister's face. For a minute, it was pleasant, then Sara to cough, her face twisting in pain as she tried to stop and draw in a breath. Kalryn reached beneath the blanket and gently rubbed Sara's chest until she stopped.

"Did you like the song?" she asked. Sara nodded happily, once again smiling. "I hope you know it's true. You are perfect. And you can't give in to the disease, you have to keep going. But I'm glad you liked it." Sara gave a little cough and moan and Kalryn frowned in worry.

"But . . . but it's so hard . . . it . . . hurts a lot . . ." Sara whispered. "Something in me . . . wants . . . to . . . give up . . ." Tears glistened in Sara's eyes and Kalryn choked back a sob.

"Don't talk like that! I can't lose you!" Kalryn insisted stubbornly. Sara shook her head quietly.

"Don't . . . don't be sad . . ." Sara coughed once again and Kalryn watched her worriedly. "I . . . I love you, sis . . ."

"I love you too," Kalryn promised. "But don't talk like you're saying goodbye."

"I love you, sis . . ." she whispered once again. Sara coughed again, her body rattling with the strain. She closed her eyes against the pain, gasping for air. For a minute, she lay there, gasping and coughing in pain. Then she just fell back against the cot, a long breath rushing out of her. Her chest never rose again.

Kalryn sat there, stunned for a second. Before shaking her head furiously, tears streaming down her face. "No," she whispered. "No! NO! _NO! _Sara!" Tears streaming down her face, her body shaking with sobs. In desperation, she shook her sister, as if trying to wake her from sleep. "NO! Sara!" She stopped shaking her sister's body, only to collapse on top of it. Full throated sobs rising from her. She cried, and screamed, and cried, over and over.

Suddenly, the fragile door into the room broke open. The nurse, as well as two low-ranking soldiers she had been talking with, burst into the room. They stopped dead for a second at the sight of a five year old girl's body and her older sister crying on top of her. The soldiers hurried over and grasped Kalryn's arms, pulling her away from her sister. The nurse just stood to the side, watching the sight.

"No! No! Let me go!" Kalryn cried, fighting against the soldiers. Her face was soaked with salty tears, and her body was shaking so hard the soldiers could barely hold her. The nurse looked back and forth between the body, the crying girl, and the straining soldiers. The nurse sighed as Kalryn screamed and cried harder – trying to get back to her sister.

"I suppose this would be the wrong time to tell her, her father died in an accident," the nurse muttered. Unfortunally, Kalryn heard her, and her sobs grew louder and harder. The soldiers let her go, and she crumpled to the ground. Crying, bawling, screaming. She was nothing more than a weeping body, who was now and forever, an orphan.

_Three Years Later_

The moon was full, and the creamy silvery light brightened everything like day. Far on the outskirts of the tiny Lantern Waste town, was an old, old orphanage. It was called _Telmar Angel Care Orphanage. _But aside from the name, there was nothing nice about the place. It was old and creaky, and the timbers were held together by the rustiest of nails. The brick work was crumbling, and creeping vines obscured the outer walls from view. The floors inside were slanted, and they creaked when you walked on them. The ceilings and the walls cracked and dropped flakes and chips whenever they were touched. And that was just the building.

The owner of the orphanage was a twenty eight year old called Miss. Felease. She was a cranky, harsh old bird. She believed children should never speak, never move, never do anything out of turn, and that they should never, ever be see, much less be born. Why she ran the orphanage, nobody knew. But all people knew, was children who grew up in her care, were the best at following orders, making them the best for the labour force. But nobody knew what she did, to get the children to grow up that way.

Of course, because of her excellent reputation for putting children in line, she was given the very special task of taking care of Kalryn. Kalryn had never had a mother, and her father's second (well, really first, he never married her mother) wife died giving birth to her younger sister. With no mother, and a father that was always out with the army, Kalryn had been a strange child. She had been difficult for maids to take care of, preferring to run free, sing, play the lyre, or stay with her deathly ill sister. Then came the fateful day when both her father and sister died. Leaving her all alone.

With no family, and being too young to marry or run her own household, she had been sent to the closest orphanage. Which also happened to be considered the best. And its reputation had only gone up since Miraz came into power. The day after the very young Prince Caspian the X had been born, King Caspian the IX had passed away in his sleep. With the prince a newborn infant, the King's brother Miraz had stepped up to the job and been crowned King. And King Miraz had ruled Narnia in an iron fist ever since, reinforcing laws and rules. Thus causing Kalryn unable to stay in her own home and having to live in the orphanage.

Now, on this night, with the full moon high, Kalryn was prepared to escape this life of pain once and for all. In the shadow on the chimney, on the roof of the orphanage, she sat curled up in a little ball. Her once shiny curly chestnut brown hair was now dull and dead. Falling in a mangled, flat curtain around her. Her strange, gorgeous eyes were dull and clouded in pain. Invisible to everyone, underneath her itchy, rough sown dress, were bruises. Black, blue, purple, and green. A whole range of colours covered every inch of her skin that could be covered by clothing. She even had a few cuts – a necessary method for the particularly troublesome children. Like her.

This was how Miss. Felease kept the children in line and created the most obedient people. By using pain to make then behave. If any of them stepped out of line, they would be beaten back over and over again, until they got the message and did as they were told. Except for Kalryn. She was defiant, headstrong and proud; she didn't give up so easily. At least, not in front of people. In the three years she had been at the _Telmar Angel Care Orphanage _she had been repeatedly beaten, cut, and put through torture no child should ever have to endure.

And finally she was fed up. She had stayed strong, taken all the torture and pain silently, and only ever cried once a year in private. On the day her family had passed on, she allowed herself to cry. Just like this night, but this night, the third anniversary, would be different. On this night, she would join them. Lifting her head up to the heavens, tears rolled silently down her face. Uncurling herself, she reached into a covered hole in the roof, and drew out her lyre. After all these years, she had never played it, but had kept it in good condition. But even though she hadn't played since her sister's death, she still knew the strings and notes by heart.

Holding it on her lap, she strummed a couple notes, letting her fingers remember. She took a deep breath, brushed the tears from her eyes, and began to play. The music poured out of her, like her very soul was playing. It was mournful, heart-breaking lament. So sad and beautiful, it could make your very soul melt at the sadness. She continued, on and on playing longer and longer into the night. Seconds changed into minutes, and minutes changed into hours, and still she played on. Finally, when the full moon was nearing the height of its path, she stopped. The beautifully sad notes fading away.

Tears once again stinging her eyes, she lowered her lyre back into its hiding spot. Glancing once again at the sky, she stood up and took a deep breath. Reaching under her horribly uncomfortable dress, she drew out a long knife meant for battle. Holding it in front of her, she ran her fingers along the edge. Then, turning the blade to her, she raised it and held the tip against her breast. She took another deep breath and gripped the hilt tighter.

"I will be with you soon, Sara, Father," she murmured. Then, she got ready to plunge the knife into her. Suddenly, a warm wind stirred up, whipping her hair and dress around her. The wind blew, swirling around her like an omen. Kalryn hesitated, then lowered the knife. She shook her head furiously and scrubbed the tears from her eyes. "No, I won't give in," she told herself. "I won't, I'll hold on for as long as I can, then escape. I'll learn how to fight, and I'll go to the forest. I'll do it, I swear it. I'll do it and do it for Sara, do it for Father. I swear it."

Turning the blade away from her, she took up a fighting stance. For the rest of the night, there she was. Practicing with the blade, mimicking moves she had seen as a young child. She stayed there practicing for the rest of the night, until the sun began to rise. Looking at the rising sun, she slipped the knife back under her dress, and climb back down the beaten building before slipping through a window into her room. Pleased with her decision, she knew that from then on, she could never give up hope. And that one day, she would be free. At least, that's how she was planning it.

**A/N: What do you think? Was it any good? I really want feedback for this one! Oh the song was ****** Perfect (Perfect) by Pink!. So, if you have anything – anything at all – to tell me about this, please do! And I probably won't update for a very long time. But anyways, tell me how it was, what you think, and that's all I have to say! Hoped you liked it, oh, and one last thing, the other chapters might not be this long, just a heads up. Now please tell me how I did! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Now my mass update is 75% done! Yay! And this sounded so much better when I wrote parts of it in my head. Anyways, here is chapter two – thank the gods that this year is a leap year because I got distracted this whole week by my Nintendo. Right, like me on facebook if you like my writing, and that's all. Enjoy!**

A Heart-full Escape

_Three Years Later_

The walls and ceilings of the _Telmar Angel Care Orphanage _shook violently. Outside it was a peaceful spring day, with a shinning sun and clear blue sky. For everyone in the tiny Lantern Waste town it was a normal day. But in the far corner of it, in Narnia's 'best' orphanage, it wasn't quite normal. Some of the events taking place inside were normal, but not all of them.

If you listened hard enough, you could hear the angry voice of one well know woman named Miss. Felease. She was screaming hateful words; painful, harmful words in fact. Inside the orphanage a normal treatment was going on for the children there. Miss. Felease was screaming 'words of encouragement' at them. For the most part.

In the main room, hidden from view, the children were lined up against the wall in their horribly uncomfortable clothes. They were all shell-shocked and silent as they watched the eldest of them, the once beautiful Kalryn, get utterly destroyed. Kalryn was getting destroyed, well past her breaking point. Well past anyone's breaking point.

Kalryn was standing in the centre of the room, her arms at her side tensely and her back rigid. An expression of controlled and locked up terror and pain was on her face and visible in her clouded brown flecked forest green eyes. Directly in front of her was the owner of the orphanage. The hateful woman was getting in Kalryn's face and her sharp nails were already coated in blood – because she wouldn't want to use a weapon and hurt the children, now would she?

"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A MISERABLE CUR! YOU NO GOOD CRAP MADE GIRL!" the words hung in the air as Miss. Felease's hand flew. There was a sickening sound as she slapped Kalryn square in the face, her nails creating large gashes that trickled blood on her cheeks. Kalryn in flinched and blinked back tears; she was trembling and barely holding herself together. Still, she refused to back down, for her dead family.

Miss. Felease screamed a harsh oath and slapped Kalryn again, on the other cheek. It turned bright pink instantly. With a hateful glare Miss. Felease stepped back from Kalryn and went about thinking of the next punishment to inflict on her 'favourite' child. Kalryn trembled and shook as she waited. Inside, she was screaming and crying for release, if not for her promise.

As Kalryn stood there, a little girl of six cautiously walked over to her. The little girl's eyes were big with fright from their caretaker, but they also held respect for the older girl, because she seemed so strong. The little girl reached out in concern and gently touched Kalryn on the wrist. Kalryn flinched and pulled her hand away, stepping backwards at the same time. Fear was evident in her eyes, and she gently held her wrist as she trembled. The little girl stepped away, unsure and now nervous.

Miss. Felease stepped towards Kalryn again, realization and cruel pleasure shinning in her harsh eyes. She now knew exactly what to do. Kalryn stepped away as Miss. Felease stepped closer, like a game of cat and mouse. Kalryn could barely breathe, all she felt was utter terror. She was soon backed up against the wall.

"No, please," she whispered, her voice was airy and faint; it had long ago lost its beautiful, rich, and melodic quality. "Please – d – don't do this!" That was the most Kalryn had said in the past two years, every since the tortures had gotten near on unbearable for her. Miss. Felease stepped unbearably close for Kalryn.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Kalryn let out a scream and reached under her dress. She pulled out the battle knife she had once planned to kill herself with and held it in front of her, shaking. Miss. Felease stumbled back in surprise. Kalryn was sobbing now, and shaking so hard she could barely stand upright. There was a moment of tense silence.

Then Kalryn choked on her tears and made a dash for it. She bolted for the stairs and rushed up them, absolute terror fueling her steps. She raced up the stairs and through open a window. The warm spring air hit her like a punch in the face. She flinched back but at the sound of footsteps coming closer she stepped onto the ledge.

In all her years of torturement, Kalryn still hadn't lost her skill. The skill she had been born with. Still gripping the old knife in a death grip, Kalryn stood up and grabbed the roof. Kalryn took a deep breath and wriggled herself on to the creaky roof which swayed precariously. She let out a shriek and scrambled back, her heart hammering. The voice of Miss. Felease rang out, calling hateful words; Kalryn flinched at each word.

Trembling and with tears of terror streaming down her face, Kalryn crawled over to a covered hole in the roof. She reached inside with her free hand and pulled out her lyre bag. She pulled it over her shaking shoulders, wincing as the weight hit her bruised body. Kalryn's legs shook as she forced herself to stand.

There was a sudden crack as a piece of wood fell from the roof where Kalryn had climbed up. The terrified girl whirled around gasping. Miss. Felease was poking her head over the edge, screaming filthy words. Kalryn closed her eyes and shook as each one reached her. She couldn't take the terror and the pain anymore. She screamed. Kalryn let out the most high-pitched piercing scream possible, her usually beautiful voice marred and painful to hear. Everyone inside the orphanage shed from the sound; even the batty owner reacted.

The scream died into a strangled gasp and Kalryn's eyes flew open. They were full of terror and dull in light, they were barely recognizable. The knife almost slipped from Kalryn's gasp before she caught it. Her heart hammering against her chest and air not quite filling her lungs, Kalryn turned and fled.

Her feet crossed the rickety and creaking roof as fast as she could manage; awkwardly pinching, and gripless shoes causing her to stumble. Kalryn reached the far edge near an Oak tree taller than the building and stopped. She didn't have anywhere to go. She had trapped herself. A vile curse cut through the air behind her. Kalryn risked a glance and saw her hateful torturer gripping the roof and wringing her scarecrow like body onto it.

Kalryn chocked back a cry of terror as her legs gave out. Tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes as she trembled. She half covered her face with her hands and bowed her head.

"Oh Sara, Father," she whispered airily. "I've failed you. I haven't kept my promise." Kalryn continued to shake and give little squeaks and sobs. The orphanage owner had wriggled herself onto the roof and was now stumbling slowly over. Kalryn screamed and shot to her feet, gripping her knife shakily as she stepped backward. The toes of one of her feet slipped off the roof edge.

As Kalryn struggled to regain her balance, her arms pin wheeling frantically, she caught the Oak tree in the corner of her eye. "Help me," she breathed, pleadingly. Miss. Felease was merely a step away.

And then, like there was an invisible wind, the massive Oak tree groaned. The branches stirred and the leaves rustled. The trunk twisted as if under a massive weight. A huge nearby branch creaked through the air; it moved directly over Kalryn, whose eyes widen in surprise. The moving tree caught Kalryn in its branches and picked her up. Then tree bent in the invisible wind and dropped Kalryn on the ground next to the orphanage. Kalryn gasped as her feet touched the ground. Then the tree whipped back into place, the wind gone, and smashed into Miss. Felease – who then went flying backwards and crashed on to the orphanage roof, breaking through it.

Of course, at the exact moment, the town's guards and soldiers rushed in. They had heard the scream from Kalryn and rushed to find out what was happening. They stopped dead and gaped, arriving just in time to see Kalryn set on the ground and the tree crashing into Miss. Felease. Kalryn froze like a deer caught in headlights (not that they knew about those sort of things in Narnia) and trembled.

The guards, with their weapons ready, stared at her. They knew her. They knew the old admiral's daughter; they also all knew how strange and different she was. This only seemed to reinforce it. One thought struck them; she had consorted with the _Woods. _So they did the natural thing – they tried to capture her.

Kalryn let out a piercing shriek and sliced the knife through the air feebly before turning and running west. She ran along a pitiful dirt track that was used only by the bravest of people, because it was so close to the Woods. Kalryn ran as fast of her weak and bruised and injured legs would let her. Her heart was pounding against her chest with the speed and volume of an army warning drum. Her breath was coming in and out in short, harsh, and shallow bursts. She was so terrified she could barely get in enough air to keep conscious.

The guards raced after her, less eager than Kalryn to go along this route. They were terrified of the Woods. But they weren't the only terrified ones. Kalryn was scared to death of them, of the mere thought of them simply getting to close. It made her heart race harder and her breathing grow shallower. This only made her running worse. At some point, Kalryn must have taken a wrong turn; because she found herself with no more track to follow and a wall of dark trees in front of her.

Kalryn skidded to a stop, either panting or hyperventilating. It was hard to tell which. Kalryn stood before the Woods, shaking with uncertainty and fear as the guards rounded a corner and saw her. They gave a shout and ready their spears, prepared to take her in and hand her over to Miraz - for consorting with the Woods was deadly.

Kalryn looked back at them and gave a little scream. Her forest green eyes with the flecks of brown flickered back and forth between the trees and the soldiers. In her mind she made a split second decision without realizing it. In her heart, she knew exactly where she would rather be. With another cry at the sight of the soldiers closing in Kalryn turned to the large trees and ran in through the trunks. The guards froze and watched in horror and shock as the teenage girl disappeared into the Woods.

* * *

><p>Through the dark and shadowy trees, past banks of wild flowers and ferns, under a canopy of glowing green leaves, ran Kalryn. She looked around in wide-eyed wonder with a kind of calm fright. Kalryn fell instantly in love with the Woods. She jump over rocks and roots, she ducked low bearing trees. She ran on and on. Her panic fading slightly, but the knife was still gripped with a white knuckled hand. At moments Kalryn thought she heard the voices of the Wood. Then there was the caw of a bird, Kalryn was so startled she stumbled over a root. She screamed as she began a head-long descent into darkness and knew no more.<p>

* * *

><p>Hours later, and far away in Miraz's castle, the Lord Protector, King, and uncle to the Crown Prince stood in a tower room listening to a report. It was about a girl who ran away from an orphanage on the far reaches of Narnia. The girl was an old admiral's last child, and that was an admiral who Miraz had quite liked. The girl, who would have been very useful for alliances, had been seen, supposedly, consorting with the Woods. Now Miraz wasn't stupid enough to lose soldiers by sending them to find out the truth, but he did order for the Woods to be watched <em>very <em>closely. He made a promise to himself. If the girl came out unharmed, she wouldn't be going back in alive.

**A/N: What do you think? A bit short, I know. So review or fav or alert or whatever to let me know what you think. I want your feedback! And if you like me on facebook, I'll start replying to reviews there. Of course, this does not apply to you if you do not have facebook. But let me know how this was, see you next time!**


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